


The Memoir and Legacy Retelling the Compilation of Events from the Perspective of Rose Lalonde

by darlingDesires



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Diary/Journal, F/F, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, POV First Person, Sadstuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-12-09
Packaged: 2018-09-03 08:59:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8706052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingDesires/pseuds/darlingDesires
Summary: I am embarking on a three-year journey upon a meteor, with companions at my side I've known through thick and thin and a few not so much. I suppose it's not important for exactly how long I knew them in the past, but more so important that we will spend the next three years getting to know each other. The company is of a rather interesting array, and I'll refrain from keeping my opinions on this matter due to the fact that this is strictly an informational book keeping track of our lives during this voyage into the unknown.





	1. April 13th, 2011

Dear Diary,

Or rather journal? I'm not sure what to don this particular compilation of the written first-person perspective. I have a feeling this journey ahead of us will be of some significance to a force greater than my current ability of which to make an educated guess and I will take pride in recording our three-year trip as it unfolds, holding myself accountable for the primary sources of information for scholars in years to come. Provided our plans are yielding success and this journey was actually worth any significance. Nonetheless, I'll keep it for personal use if our trip ends in vain. So I suppose I can call it more of a memoir, or legacy.

 

Then, I suppose, Dear Memoir,

I am embarking on a three-year journey upon a meteor, with companions at my side I've known through thick and thin and a few not so much. I suppose it's not important for exactly how long I knew them in the past, but more so important that we will spend the next three years getting to know each other. The company is of a rather interesting array, and I'll refrain from keeping my opinions on this matter due to the fact that this is strictly an informational book keeping track of our lives during this voyage into the unknown.

There are a few things I am concerned about, though, one being that a few of my alien companions have warned me about a certain inevitable sobriety of a certain troll, and there will be no way to stop him from sinking into the abyss and, well, it's not important. It's something for a future time and, at least for the time being, I have been told not to worry about it.

Oh Memoir, there is nothing more I enjoy than spewing bountiful words of wisdom onto the pages of a book, though I'm afraid that the pure fact that today is the first day of our elite mission, or whatever you'd like to call it, which unfortunately means this first excerpt will not be as long as the ones to follow in the future.

Stay tuned, dear future reader, or my future self if this turns out to be an endeavor of vain.

 

Sincerely,

Rose Lalonde.


	2. April 20th, 2011

Dear Memoir,

Today marks the first week of our journey, seven days of travel and exploration across the not-so-desolate meteor can already be crossed off our calendar. Three-hundred and fifty-eight days remain in our expedition, but that’s the home stretch at this point.

Everybody seems to be getting along well. Transition from living alone or with a single guardian has been a bit rough on more than one of us, myself included. As much as I disliked living with my mother, I miss her.

Kanaya and I, though our introductions started off rocky, are getting along well. We have much to talk about, and it’s rather. Nice? To talk to her. Things are pleasant. Between engaging talks held by my companions and the general apathy to explore anywhere but the common room and a few other chambers, we seem to be adjusting well.

I’m not quite sure how it happened, but Dave and Karkat seem to be in the midst of an argument, or perhaps something more mild than such a hard word. As of now, I peacefully record within you, dearest memoir, while being seated in the common room. I bring up my male companions because they burst in rather loudly moments ago, nearly startling the tea out of my hands and onto this book. That would have been not so disastrous, now that I think about it, there are only two entries and it would not be too difficult to re-record the information of this entry and the last.

Anyhow, Karkat currently seems to have no concept of an inside voice, while Dave reaches a pitch previously thought to only be reachable by dog whistle. It’s almost as if he hadn’t hit puberty yet, or if his vocal chords were swapped with Celine Dion’s as a child.

I can’t exactly make out what the two are arguing about, but it certainly is heated. They’re beginning to make quite a ruckus in here, Kanaya’s certainly off put by it.

I know I said that the entries following the previous would be significantly longer, but I’m afraid I need to break these two lovebirds up.

 

Stay tuned, dear future reader.

 

Sincerely,

Rose Lalonde


	3. April 21st, 2011

Dear Memoir,

Today I woke up with a searing pain in my side. I’m not quite sure what caused it, or why it decided to afflict this particular region with agony, but it hurts nonetheless.

Kanaya’s likely off talking with the other trolls. It may seem like I talk about her a lot, since within the three entries I’ve written so far she’s been a part of more of them then not, but I just don’t interact with the others as much as I should. It’s not that I’m  antisocial in opposition to the idea of company, but Kanaya and I just seem to. Click? Our speaking styles and the way we word things are similar, and I suppose I find comfort in someone similar to me.

I’ve been lying on the floor of this room for, metaphorically, as long as I can remember, which is this morning and a little bit of last night. Speaking of last night, I didn’t sleep for that long, my conscious just seems to dislike the idea of lulling off into sweet slumber, though it sounds like a wonderful idea right about no

 

My apologies, my heavy eyelids came crashing down after writing that sentence. Severe unprofessionality is certainly not becoming of a young writer. Memoir writer? Autobiographer?

It is now much later in the day, and it doesn’t appear that I’ve been located. Note to self: this room is a safe space of which to isolate oneself.

The pain in my back has spread to my side, and it’s not necessarily… a “sharp” pain. It’s more so a twisting sensation, and I’m not quite sure what to make of it.

Regardless, at this point I’m almost positive that no one will be able to find me in this room. It’s rather absent from the rest of the meteor, and I doubt anyone will find it necessary to visit here. I think I’ll stay, for the time being at least.

 

About yesterday’s entry, Dave and Karkat were rather fiercely bickering. When I tried to break them up Karkat yelled something about not feeling ashen for me? Kanaya later elaborated that I was acting as an Auspistice for Dave and Karkat, and Karkat did not reciprocate my ashen advances, whatever that means. Troll romance is rather complex, though I try to keep an open mind to it as much as possible.

Another thing she explained to me was that Karkat wanted Dave in one of his quadrants? From what I’ve picked up from their interactions and the little I’ve learned from their limited interactions so far, I think it might be the… black one? The one best represented by the spades symbol. I hope I don’t sound culturally insensitive by relating their romance to our playing card suits; I try to keep up on the quadrant names but it’s difficult when I’ve grown up with one word for any kind of romantic attraction. 

I’ll ask Kanaya to explain more to me eventually.

I hate to keep diverting back to my bodily aches, but the feeling seems to be growing more harsh and intense. I’m fearful something’s wrong with me, I’ve never felt like this before.

 

Oh god.

I’ll Write more in you later, dearest Memoir. But for now I fear I must go.

 

Sincerely,

Rose Lalonde


End file.
